Chapter threeeee! Hope y'all still enjoy this. And remember, it switches POV's so this one starts with Ste's, then Brendan, then back to Ste. I don't know why I'm saying this – it's very obvious – but there we go.
XOX
Brendan is drunk again by the time Ste finally manages to get him alone; safe and secure inside the confinements of the bedroom… away from a pissed-off Cheryl and eye-rolling Eileen and Maggie's relentless insistence they forget the 'tiff' and 'just have fun'. Away from the charming forgiveness of Seamus, which only seems to make Brendan drink more.
"C'mon, lie down." Ste whispers, and pushes back the covers so that Brendan can stumble his way into bed.
Brendan flops face-down onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, and when his eyes fall shut it looks like they're heavy; weighed down with the silent unspoken turmoil he's feeling. Ste pulls off Brendan's shoes one-by-one, dropping them haphazardly off the end of the bed. Brendan's completely still as he does so… as if he's drifted off; his mind disappearing into a haze where Ste can't reach him… can't understand him, no matter how desperately he wants to.
He trails his fingers gently down Brendan's spine, back and forth in what he hopes to be a comforting, soothing motion. Once again the exhilarated laughs come from outside the bedroom of the rest of the family… enjoying their Christmas Eve… blissfully unaware… or else, simply not caring. Ste doesn't know which one hurts him more. He just wants to get Brendan away from here… back to Dublin perhaps, where everything was perfect. Where it was just the two of them.
Brendan's breathing slows, and Ste figures he's passed out. He trails his fingers down Brendan's back to his trousers, and gently starts to loosen his belt – attempting to remove it without disturbing his sleeping lover. The moment is quiet and serene in comparison to the chaos that erupted only minutes earlier.
Until Brendan suddenly jerks.
He sits up immediately, his eyes wild, as there's a pain in Ste's wrist as Brendan's fingers clench determinedly around it – ripping Ste's hand away from his belt.
"What are you doing?!" Brendan's voice is panicked and rasped, and for that moment it's like he can't even see straight… can't even see that it's Ste who's with him.
"It's alright!" Ste gasps hurriedly, "I was just helpin' you get changed…"
"Steven…?" The pain in Ste's wrist eases, as Brendan's grip falters.
"Yeah," Ste whispers, "I thought you'd gone to sleep."
"…I had."
"You're not gonna be comfortable like that."
"No…"
Brendan's eyes mist over as he starts to remove his belt and trousers on his own, and Ste sees again that haunted soul behind the eyelids… his mind disappearing into a zone where Ste can't reach him.
"Sorry." Brendan whispers again, for what seems like the millionth time this weekend. His voice is barely audible.
Ste feels tears prickling in the backs of his own eyes, and his gut tightening sickeningly again, although his mind refuses to address the reason why. He just feels numb… and helpless.
"It's okay," He soothes, and helps Brendan out of his shirt before he lies back down on the bed. "It's okay, it's alright."
He chants it, like a mantra… something Amy used to do with him whenever he was at his lowest. And he watches as Brendan, now just in his boxers, begins to breathe easily again, his back rising and falling as he lays back to rest. Ste draws circles along Brendan's neck with the tips of his fingers… it's something Brendan sometimes does to him after sex, because it makes him go to sleep quicker and Brendan doesn't like it when he rabbits on. He's never tried it the other way round, but he hopes it does the trick. He wants Brendan to sleep… to stop thinking whatever it is he's thinking… whatever's making him look so afraid and haunted like that.
But the attempt is short-lived… because they are disturbed again.
There's a small knock at the door and then Cheryl's voice through the woodwork, "Brendan? Ste? Can I talk to you for a second?"
Ste is hesitant, but he can hardly ignore her. He pulls the duvet over Brendan's resting body – give him his dignity – and then shuffles over and unlocks the door.
Cheryl smiles sheepishly at him, then her gaze moves over to her sleeping brother.
"Is he drunk?"
"He's upset, Cheryl."
"They're always like that, him and Da." She sighs innocently, "Biting each others heads off at every opportunity. They've both drunk a lot, I suppose."
"Cheryl, what do you want?" Ste can't keep the bite from his tone this time. He's had enough. Had enough of all of this – wants them all gone, even her.
"I've been talkin' to Mum, and she's been getting a really bad back on that sofa bed, you know, it's not a very well-made one."
"Right…"
"So I was thinking her and Dad could sleep in here tonight, and you and Bren can take the sofa?"
"Cheryl," Ste groans, "He's already asleep."
"It's only 5:30, I'm sure he'll wake up! I'm not sayin' move now, I'm sayin' later! I've got to wash some new bedding anyway."
"Why can't you swap with 'em?!"
"Hey, you! You're supposed to be a gentleman!"
"Well Brendan's not gonna wanna sleep with me where Dec and Padraig can walk in on us, is he?!" Ste tries… quickly running out of excuses.
Cheryl laughs at that, "Well I hope you'd keep yerselves decent!"
"Cheryl…"
"Oh Ste, please love, c'mon, it's only one night – and it's my parents!"
Ste draws a heavy sigh. His head is pounding and it's nothing to do with the drink. But he can hardly argue this out with Cheryl in her own home, can he? He's sure if Brendan was awake it would be a different story but well… if Brendan fiercely objects, he can do so later on; he stands a better chance than Ste does anyway.
"Fine. Whatever."
"Great, thank you!" She kisses him heavy-handedly on the cheek. "Are you comin' out for mince pies?"
"Maybe later."
"Alright, well don't hide away! You're supposed to be integrating, remember? Let Brendan sulk on his own!"
She sniggers mischievously; completely ignorant to her brothers state-of-mind. It looks like she expects Ste to giggle along too, and appears disgruntled when he doesn't. She probably thinks he's in some 'sulk' now as well. Well, whatever. Ste slams the bedroom door with enough force to prove he's pissed off… but not hard enough to wake Brendan. He reckons that Cheryl hardly notices.
XOX
Brendan is behaving like the good little Catholic boy he was bought up to be; bowing down to the demands of his parents. They're sleeping in his and Steven's bedroom tonight.
Whilst Brendan was asleep, Steven tidied away any overly-obvious evidence of domestication… for which Brendan is thankful. Steven's clothes –which he has a habit of just chucking into a chaotic pile in the corner – are now cleared away and stored at the bottom of Brendan's cupboard. The picture of Leah and Lucas that decorates the night-stand has been put into a drawer. It's not like Seamus doesn't know they're in a relationship… Brendan just prefers to not shove it down the mans throat, and he's grateful to Steven for being so acutely aware of that.
So now he bundles up the duvet and pillows, and shuffles out to join Steven on the sofa-bed. It's 11:30pm, and everybody is making their way to bed for an early night before Christmas. Maggie's impatient knock on the bedroom door had been their signal to file out.
Steven looks cute, Brendan notes, in clothes. It's a rare thing for them to go to bed wearing anything – besides Steven's standard black socks. Now he's wearing one of Brendan's oversized t-shirts and a pair of tacky old tracksuit bottoms. He's bought a tray of snacks over to the sofa like he and Brendan are at some godforsaken slumber-party. He even fashions a big grin on his face as Brendan approaches, and pats down the sofa next to him with his usual enthusiasm.
Brendan is grateful for it, as he slumps down next to him and chucks the duvet over them both.
He realises that this will be their first night with Steven staying here that they've not had sex before sleep. Quite an achievement, actually, but God knows how he's going to sleep without it – especially as he only woke up a couple of hours ago. Steven rests his head sleepily against Brendan's chest, and his arm snakes round Brendan's stomach and holds tightly. Brendan suspects this is more for his benefit than it is for Steven's. Steven has been a rock for him these past two days, and he's not going to let it go unappreciated. He plans to take him away – as soon as Christmas is over. They'll do their planned trip to the kids in Manchester, and then Brendan will whip him off somewhere special, where they'll stay through to the New Year. Maybe New York, he thinks; that's always special in Winter. Or a return to Dublin, where he'd never felt so happy and never seen Steven look so content. Yeah… he'll make it perfect again, like it was before.
"Wanna watch Family Guy?" Ste mutters through the darkness.
"Family Guy? What's that?"
Steven sits upright – looking at Brendan with nothing short of horror.
Brendan blinks. "What?"
"Family Guy!" he repeats, as if it's totally obvious.
Brendan tuts and rolls his eyes, "Yeah. What the fuck is it?"
"It's like… it's a TV show, it's legendary."
"Oh right. Sounds shit."
"You don't know what it is!"
"It's about a family guy."
"No, it's not. It's a cartoon. It's like the Simpsons but badass."
Brendan smirks. "Badass?"
"Yeah." Ste pouts defiantly; refusing to be mocked for his choice of word.
Brendan wants to suck that bottom lip right off.
For a moment… he feels normal again. Even with their exposing position in the centre of the living room, and even without their usual sex that sends them into their blissful sleep. Even with the company that this house holds at present time….. Steven still has a way of making him feel light and carefree. Perhaps there's somewhere even better than New York or Dublin…?
Steven puts his show on, but Brendan hardly pays attention to it. He focuses instead on watching Steven… his perfect face which poses such a distraction to the tribulations of every-day life. Every now and then Steven breaks into a fit of laughter at some joke that the fat cartoon guy has told. Brendan loves that when he laughs, it lights up his whole face – shines from his eyes. And he loves that he laughs at the most stupid of things – because this programme is stupid – but he won't tell him that tonight.
And when Steven's eyes start to droop shut sleepily, Brendan gathers him under his arms and pulls him against his chest. He doesn't care if Declan or Padraig see. His fingers trail absent-mindedly through the strands of Steven's hair as he starts to fall asleep against him. And when he is asleep, and Brendan's finally able to turn off the noise of the television, he kisses him lightly on the head – hoping that Steven can feel it in his sleep and he'll see it as a mark of Brendan's appreciation. For being so perfect in all of this.
The living room is quiet and serene, lit only by the dim red of the outdoor Christmas decorations. There's a tacky glow-up Santa out there that Brendan absolutely detests, but Cheryl and Steven somehow convinced him to buy it. As his eyelids fall shut and his mind numbs into sleep, he has a small smile playing across his lips at the memory.
"Ahhh, Bren! Bren!" Cheryl cackles in her childlike, animated way. She holds up some grotesque fat little glow-in-the-dark Santa, with an ugly face and cheap plastic body, "Look at this!"
"Great." Brendan grunts, decidedly unimpressed.
He moves swiftly onwards, wanting to get this over and done with. He hates shopping, but he had to attend this trip for this exact reason; Cheryl gets distracted by anything shiny, and Steven's taste is hardly the highest of class. And Brendan, for whatever reason, likes to have a good-looking tree. If they're gonna have a damn tree, it may as well be neat and sophisticated and good-looking. Not a task best suited to these two clowns.
"Ahhhh!" Cheryl squeals excitedly, "Ste look – it speaks!"
Brendan rolls his eyes as a series of crackly low-quality 'ho ho ho's proceed from the plastic fat man. It's an expression that Steven catches… and one that curiously makes him more interested in Cheryl's find.
"Aw, we should definitely get that, Bren." He grins; the hint of mischief in his eyes.
"We're not getting it."
"Aw no, it'll be perfect, that! Right outside your door!"
"Oh, it will Bren!" Cheryl agrees. And Brendan gets the impression she's also just doing this to wind him up. Nobody could genuinely want that thing for any other reason.
"Put it back. I'm not payin' for it."
"Oh that's alright, I'll just shove it up me jumper."
Brendan can't help but smile at that. But he's defiant. "It's a piece of shit, an' it's givin' me the creeps; we're not gettin' it."
Wrong choice of phrase.
Because the next second the damn thing is right in his face, and Cheryl has adopted an enthusiastic coo-ing voice as she mocks, "Aw, it's okay Brendan, he only wants to be friends! Another member of our wittle family."
"Georrff." Brendan groans, shoving it aside.
"Please take me home and take care of me Brendan," she imitates the plastic man, "Pleeeease."
"Aww." Steven plays along, holding Brendan by the arm to keep him in place. "Dead cute, innit?"
"No."
"Please Bwendan!"
"Shut up, Chez."
"Please take care of me."
"If you carry on, I'm cancellin' Christmas."
"Pleeeeease!"
And then Steven joins in too; thoroughly enjoying his boyfriends evident discomfort.
"Pleeeease!"
"Please take care of me!"
"Pleeeeease Brendan!"
"Alright, Jesus Christ, SHUT UP." Brendan yanks the god-foresaken thing from Cheryl's hands and shoves it into the trolley. Anything to get them both to shut up and stop causing such a scene.
There's a silence afterwards where Steven and Cheryl look at him in shock. And then a sudden burst of laughter as they watch him strut away, Santa in toe. He maintains his swagger, but it's decidedly less convincing with that tacky piece of shit in his trolley.
He and Steven had been official for all of two weeks at that point. And it had genuinely seemed for the first time in Brendan's life that things were going to be okay.
He slips into sleep soundly at the thought.
XOX
Steven is relaxed, his whole body heavy, his mind murky in the depths of his dreamworld. His body is snuggled warmly against Brendan's chest; covered this evening by a t-shirt that Steven would rather have off him, but will have to make do with for tonight. His feet have wrapped themselves around Brendan's so that they're a tight tangle of limbs. So that if either of them dare to move, the other will suffer for it also.
Which is why, when he feels Brendan jerk, Steven is tugged out of his sleeping state into a less-satisfactory state of in-between consciousness.
"Hurrrr." He mumbles groggily, "Whassup?"
And then Brendan jerks again… into full sitting position this time, so that Steven's head hits the sofa below him with an uncomfortable bump.
"Brenda…"
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
Brendan's voice cuts through him like ice. The panic in it… the fury… the detestation. Ste finds himself awake immediately, pulling himself into sitting position… looking around blearily to see what has caused Brendan's outburst.
He sees it.
Standing in the kitchen… wrapped in the darkness and only lit by the glow of the kettle… Seamus is watching them.
Ste's whole body seems to go cold in an instant, a vast tremor moving up his spine. And his fingers shake as he makes to clutch onto Brendan, and whispers…
"Brendan, don't…"
But it's too late.
Brendan rips himself from Ste's faint grasp, and he lunges across the room to where his father stands, ghost-like, in the kitchen.
"I SAID WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"
His scream is loud enough to wake the entire house… but louder still is the furious SMACK of fist against flesh, and the WHACK of head against countertop as Seamus is knocked flying into the worktop… where he was making his cup of tea seconds before.
"BRENDAN, STOP!" Ste screams. And his head is awash with panic, with white noise… and eyesight clouded by immediate tears… and body rigid with fear and tremble.
He races across the room to where the two of them stand, but it's too late. Brendan has already packed a hard second punch that has blood burst sickeningly from Seamus's mouth… staining the tiles around them.
And everything seems to blur as Maggie rushes from the bedroom, and Cheryl from the staircase, with Declan and Eileen right behind her… and Brendan punches again… and the room is suddenly filled with screams and shrieks of anguish and fury.
"BRENDAN, STOP IT!"
"CALL THE POLICE!"
"DAD, DON'T!"
"STE, STOP HIM!"
"GET OFF HIM, YOU FREAK!"
"DAD, PLEASE!"
Ste wrestles with him… and Cheryl too… both fighting against Brendan's strength to drag him away from what is now an unmoving body on the floor.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ste can hear Maggie crying down a phone…
"Police please. Hollyoaks… I… I need you here IMMEDIATELY! He's gone crazy!"
"GET OFF ME!" Brendan sobs, and he fights hard against Ste's hold, with his blooded fists flailing about manically, like he's desperate to keep hitting… to keep destroying… to kill.
"That's enough now!" Ste hears himself beg through a wash of tears, "Please, Bren, PLEASE!"
"GET THE FUCK OFF!"
"Dad, stop it!" Declan is crying too; Ste can hear it in his voice. And Padraig is now sat, terrified, at the top of the stairs – not daring to come any nearer. And Eileen's boyfriend has his arm wrapped comfortingly around the lads shoulders… protecting him from the insanity of his own real father.
"Brendan!" Ste croaks, "Please, I'm beggin' ya."
He can't get to Seamus now anyway – not with Eileen and Maggie and Cheryl all crowded around him, shrieking with fear and horror as they observe his bloody, wounded face.
"Dad, wake up!" Cheryl sobs, "Oh God, wake up!"
"Lets go outside…" Ste pants, pulling Brendan away… away… away, like he's always needed to be. "C'mon, please, come with me."
Somehow… despite Brendan's manic determination and strength… Ste manages to get him outside the front door, and slams it shut behind him so that Brendan couldn't get back inside if he tried.
He watches through a hazy blur of white-noise as Brendan collapses in a heap against the doorstep, and his body shakes against the efforts to hide his tears, to hide his anguish, because he's still trying to hide it from Ste, still trying to protect him from something it's becoming impossible to protect him from.
Ste can hear sirens, and he knows their time is running out.
He bends low to Brendans' level, and with the last of his strength his lifts him into a fierce hug where he clings on tightly. He would cling on forever if he could – if he thought it could protect Brendan from this pain… from these memories and fears that corrupt him. From that man inside, who right now, Ste can't help but hope is dead. He can't help but want him gone from Brendans life and for good this time.
"I love you." He whispers.
Brendan sniffs, and his voice is flat and worn as he croaks back, "I love you too."
The sirens are drawing closer, and Ste hastily removes Brendan's cross from his own neck. Brendan gave it to him a couple of months ago, to protect him from what had then been an almost-inevitable fate. But Ste had survived it. And Brendan vows to this day that the cross is the reason. But Brendan needs it so much more now.
"Here," he whispers, as he fastens the thing back around the neck of its first owner, "The police are comin', Bren."
"I know."
"I need ya to be strong for me, yeah? Don't let 'em see you like this."
Perhaps Brendan is rubbing off on him, but Ste doesn't want to give anyone the pleasure of seeing him as the wreck that he is tonight. He knows Brendan doesn't want it either. Brendan is tough. He is a fighter. And he will present himself as that to them.
"There's a present for you," Brendan whispers, "Under the bed. Take it – then go to Manchester. Get away from here. I'll come find ye there."
"Ok." Ste nods.
"Tell Cheryl I'm sorry."
"Ok."
"An' there's presents for the boys under the tree – they've already been sniffin' round them."
"Yeah, I know."
"And presents for Leah and Lucas – don't forget to take them…"
Brendan's monosyllabic reeling off of instructions is interrupted as the sirens scream loudly from just below the steps, and then silence. Brendan grips onto Ste tightly… as though it's the last time he'll get to do so.
He doesn't let go until the police are all the way up the steps, and physically forcing them apart.